All Come In Again
by rmonroe
Summary: Three years after the events of the final season, everyone is reunited, and big, tough Musketeers turn into total fluffballs when interacting with each other's small children. Aramis is the favorite uncle and Constance is awesome as usual. Anne/Aramis; Athos/Sylvie; Porthos/Elodie; d'Artagnan/Constance
1. Chapter 1

The Musketeers are not mine. :(

Also, this is largely fluffy, self-indulgent, warm, squishy-ness. I just want them all to be happyyyyy! lol

It also has not had the benefit of a beta reader. If anyone is interested in the job, let me know!

* * *

The summer after Olivier turned two Sylvie decided a return to Paris was in order. At first things had been busy as they established their new life in Autun and got ready for the baby. Then had come the struggles of winter and having a young baby, but as it all eventually died down into the normal humdrum of life, she had realized that Athos was missing his brothers. They had all exchanged many letters back and forth - Porthos had returned home from the front six months ago from a broken arm and ended up staying, Aramis continued as the successful Minister of France, and Constance and d'Artagnan were masters of the Garrison - but hadn't seen one another since they left.

Athos was sitting by the fire with his brooding stare firmly in place one evening when she brought it up. She had put Ollie down for the night and returned to clean up the table from supper to find that Athos had already done it. That made up her mind for her. He was surely far too bored with their current life if he had thought to clean the dishes.

She came up behind him and slid a hand onto his shoulder. He looked up and spared her a small smile. "You miss Paris, don't you?"

He shook his head and took her hand. "Everything I need is here."

She came around the chair and sat on the armrest so she could look him in the face. "That's very sweet. But something is wrong."

He sighed and returned his gaze to the fire. "d'Artagnan continues to threaten rebellion if I do not return to the Garrison."

She grinned. "So it's d'Artagnan's fault."

He gave her a half-smile. "Of course."

"You know," she said slowly. "Ollie is old enough to travel. The weather seems to be holding."

His eyes were slightly startled when they met hers. "You want to go back?"

She shrugged lightly. "For a visit. You need to see your brothers. I have people I have missed as well. And Ollie needs to know all of his family."

His face suddenly lit up and he took her face gently between his hands. "Are you certain? You don't mind?"

She laughed and leaned forward to kiss him. "I'll start the preparations tomorrow."

* * *

Athos felt his spirits rise the closer they got to Paris. It wasn't that he hadn't loved his new life with his wife and son, but there was a space in his heart that could only be filled by his brothers and he was very much looking forward to introducing them to Ollie.

The little boy rode in front of him sometimes, sometimes in front of Sylvie, and took in the world outside their village with great curiosity. He pointed and jabbered and bounced and tried to climb off the horse to chase rabbits or butterflies. Athos was delighted with him, except his apparent disregard for heights and his personal safety. But Athos kept a firm arm around him and he settled into the long journey.

The four day trip was taking longer because they made frequent stops to allow Ollie to stretch his legs and for meals. Sylvie had been right about the weather and they fell asleep under the stars each night, Ollie cuddled between them.

The morning of their last traveling day dawned clear and warm and Athos was the first awake, his pulse picking up speed at the thought that today he would see his friends again. He gently shifted Ollie off his chest where he'd ended up sometime in the night and got up to get the fire started for breakfast.

"Da?" a small voice said behind him as he crouched down to blow on the embers.

He turned away from the fire with a smile and held out an arm which Ollie toddled forward and stepped into. Athos held him close and kissed his dark head. "Good morning, _mon petite_. Are you hungry?"

Ollie nodded and stepped away from Athos, peering at the small fire. "Hot?

"Yes, very hot. No touching."

Ollie turned back and held out his arms and Athos obliged, sitting back against the tree they had camped under and drawing the little boy onto his lap. Ollie leaned against his chest, still a bit sleepy, and they sat in silence for a moment.

"Do you know where we're going today?" Athos asked him.

"Market?" he guessed. It was the only place they'd ever really gone before now.

Athos chuckled. "Somewhere much better. We're going to Paris to see our friends."

Ollie nodded, remembering what they'd been talking to him about but not really understanding.

"Go wake _Maman_ and we'll have breakfast," Athos said, setting the boy on his feet.

The rest of the day passed peacefully, though Ollie was beginning to get bored of being on the hose all the time and they took some breaks to walk. Athos found himself growing impatient but they were now in country that was especially familiar to him and he could almost count the steps to Paris.

They arrived in the city just before sundown. "Do you want me to find us lodgings first?" he asked Sylvie considering Ollie who was slumped in front of his mother looking like he would give up his fight with sleep at any moment.

She grinned at him and shook her head. "The Garrison first."

His smile split his face and he urged his horse forward through the familiar streets, hoping his friends would be there.

They dismounted before going through the archway into the rebuilt courtyard, Athos getting down first so Sylvie could hand their tired boy to him. They walked through, leading their horses, Athos looking around eagerly. At first there were no familiar faces, just a few of what must be the newer recruits stopping their duties to watch them.

"Can we help, Monsieur?" one of them ventured to ask, coming over to them when they stopped in the middle of the courtyard.

"Is Captain d'Artagnan here?" Athos asked, unable to help feeling a little disappointed to not immediately see any of his friends. He supposed that was his own fault for not writing to inform them he was coming.

The youngster nodded. "I'll get him for you. Can we take your horses?"

Well, thought Athos. At least they are training them to be polite.

They were invited to sit at one of the outdoor tables but Ollie was awake now that they were stopped and eager to explore the new place. He wandered around the courtyard, Sylvie close behind him, making the men smile.

Athos had watched the recruit that greeted them disappear into Treville's old office and had kept his gaze there, watching for d'Artagnan. Soon, he was rewarded and watched as his brother came out of the office looking slightly puzzled until he saw Athos. His face lit into a broad grin and he paused a moment to shout "Constance!" through the door before racing down the stairs. He rushed forward like a bull and Athos caught him up with a laugh. They held each other tightly for a moment before d'Artagnan pulled back, still gripping his shoulders.

"You didn't send word?" he managed.

Athos shrugged. "I thought we'd get here before the letter. I hope we haven't come at a bad time."

"Never," d'Artagnan said fiercely.

"Athos?" he looked up to see Constance at the top of the stairs staring at him in similar surprise and joy. She rushed down and all but shoved her husband aside to embrace him. "I knew you'd be coming back soon!" she exclaimed before looking around. "Where are they?"

Athos laughed and gestured to his wife and son who had wandered to the opposite side. Sylvie hurried over, looking a bit shy but Constance embraced her with the same enthusiasm, and then crouched down to see Ollie, who was peeking out from behind his mother's skirts.

"Oh," Constance breathed. "Sylvie, he's so beautiful!"

Sylvie smiled and gave Ollie an encouraging nudge forward. "Say hello to Constance," she said.

Constance grinned at him, still crouched down. "Ollie, did you come all the way here on a horse? You are a very big boy!" she told him. Athos thought his heart might burst when Constance managed to coax a smile out of the little boy.

"I can't believe he's so big. I was picturing a baby, I admit," d'Artagnan exclaimed, clapping a hand to Athos' shoulder. "You have been gone too long, my friend."

Athos nodded, looking over at the captain. He looked older, his beard fuller and there was a weariness about his eyes that Athos knew well. But also happiness.

"How are you? And the Garrison?" he asked.

d'Artagnan huffed a laugh. "If I thought you were here to take the job back I would embrace you again. No, it's not so bad. In fact, with the Queen and Aramis running the palace things are well. Porthos is back. You heard?"

Athos nodded. "I can't say I was sad to hear of the injury that brought him home. Where is he?"

"I think he went out with Elodie and little Marie," he said. "I suspect they'll be back soon for supper. And we'll send word to Aramis at the palace. They will be glad you've come."

"As are we," Constance said brightly, arm in arm with Sylvie. "You must be hungry! Come inside and we'll find something to eat."

Athos shared a smile with d'Artagnan, glad that Constance's need to make sure everyone had their needs met had not changed, and they followed the women inside.


	2. Chapter 2

So, I've done something with this that I told myself I wouldn't do and started posting before the story is complete. The good news is, I do have a lot written, and since it's not done, there's room for suggestions. If there's something in particular you'd like to see, let me know! And THANK YOU for all the follows, favorites, and reviews. This fandom is a ton of fun so far!

* * *

Porthos and his family returned not long after Athos and the others sat down to eat. He came through the doorway, ducking since Marie rode on his back. "This one," he exclaimed loudly into the din of the hall full of recruits. "Will not go another moment without victuals."

His pretense at solemnity had three-year-old Marie giggling wildly, and Elodie followed him in, shaking her head. "You mean _you_ cannot bear another moment," she said, squeezing his arm.

Athos watched him and resisted the urge to leap up and greet his friend. The lighting was dim in the hall and they were sitting in the far corner but the light in the big man's eyes and the broadness of his grin as he swung Marie down and held her easily with one arm was a relief to see. War had many a negative effect and Athos was pleased to see that Porthos seemed so content.

Constance caught sight of him and stood. "Porthos!" she called, her own grin of anticipation growing.

As Porthos turned to look, Athos got to his feet as well and began making his way between tables and benches.

Porthos' look of surprise and subsequent joy made Athos laugh and soon he was swept up in a tight, one-armed bear hug as Marie was still in his other arm. Athos returned the hug, feeling the gazes of all the recruits on them.

"I didn't think this day could get any better!" Porthos exclaimed, releasing him.

"You look well," Athos observed, glancing at the little girl.

If it were possible, Porthos' grin broadened. "Marie, you remember all the stories about Papa's friends?"

The little girl nodded, her big blue eyes studying Athos.

"This is Athos. He went away when you were just a baby."

She offered him a small smile. "You're the best at swords," she told him.

Athos chuckled and gave a little bow. "I'd be willing to bet that is no longer true, but thank you."

They all squished together at the same table, eating and laughing and passing the children from lap to lap. Much to her delight, Constance had befriended Ollie enough that he was falling asleep on her lap as the evening grew dark, though little Marie seemed far from sleep and was delighted to find someone new in Athos that would listen to her endless stories.

She, in fact, protested vehemently when the mothers decided it was time for bed, but Athos promised to take her for a ride on his horse the next day and she was somewhat placated. Constance handed a drowsy little Ollie to Sylvie and they went upstairs to make up some spare beds since Constance insisted Athos and his family stay at the Garrison.

Athos, Porthos, and d'Artagnan sat in their corner, the mess hall quiet and mostly empty.

"Just missing one," Porthos said, looking around the table.

"We sent word, but he's very busy these days," d'Artagnan said, sharing a knowing glance with Porthos.

Athos snorted. "I take it his … appointment is working out?"

"In many ways," Porthos confirmed. He raised his tankard. "To family."

They all found it easy to drink to that, and fell into a comfortable silence, until Porthos admitted he wasn't as young as he used to be and was eager for his bed. The others chuckled and got up as well, and Athos was secretly grateful. Their five days of travel had been pleasant but wearing.

d'Artagnan pointed him toward the guest quarters and he headed up the stairs feeling full and sleepy. He opened the door and found Sylvie already asleep, Ollie on a little pallet next to the bed. Athos pulled off his books and trousers and knelt to kiss Ollie's head and tuck his blanket snugly around him before laying down next to Sylvie with a contented sigh.

"Thank you," he whispered into her hair.

* * *

 _Meanwhile at the palace..._

A soft knock came on the large ornate door and Aramis looked up from the book he was reading to Louis.

"I'll get it," Anne said, readjusting the cloth on her son's forehead. "Keep reading."

Aramis obliged, though kept a portion of his attention on the doorway. He was sitting on Louis's sick bed, his back against the headboard and the boy king lying listlessly beside him. The fever that had taken him had swept through the entire city, finally coming to infiltrate the palace itself. Aramis and Anne had both had it, though not as bad as Louis. The doctors assured them it was not fatal but they were both always wracked with fear whenever Louis was sick or hurt and had stayed by his side.

"Thank you," he heard Anne say as she closed the door. He hadn't seen who it was or heard their conversation but when she turned around she looked oddly excited.

"A messenger from the Garrison," she said, coming back to her place on the other side of the bed.

"Good news?" he asked cautiously.

She smiled at him. "Athos has returned. He's there now."

Aramis stared at her for moment before the words sunk in. "Athos? He's here? In the city?"

She nodded before glancing down at the eight-year-old in the bed. "I'm sure we'll be alright if you want to go."

He hesitated and looked down at Louis. They boy's eyes were mostly closed but he reached up and grabbed Aramis' sleeve. "Keep reading," he begged hoarsely.

Aramis smiled at him and opened the book again. "As your Majesty commands," he said gently. He looked back at Anne. "I'm sure Athos won't mind a few minutes delay."

It turned out to be hours before Aramis left Louis' bedside however. Every time he thought the boy might be asleep or his fever improving and started to get up, Louis would reach out and grab his sleeve, asking him to stay. And, as eager as he was to see Athos, Aramis never grew weary of the boy needing him. He carefully avoided thinking of him as _his_ boy, but it was Aramis who taught him to shoot and ride and pray. It was Aramis who he wanted beside him when he was frightened or hurt or sick, and Aramis wouldn't trade that.

And he knew Anne was grateful. She refused to relinquish complete care of her son to governesses or nurses, though an army of people stood by to assist in his upbringing. She loved the boy fiercely and was glad to have Aramis' support when the rest of the court thought it odd how much time she spent with the boy.

Both of them were determined to raise him to be the king that France needed, but right now he was just a sick child who wanted the two people he loved most in the world by his side.

Louis's fever broke in the middle of the night and his fitful sleep turned into a deep, restful one. Aramis rested his hand on the boy's forehead and felt his pulse one more time before he was satisfied that the danger had passed. Anne had fallen asleep some time ago, her head next to her son's on the pillow, and he touched her shoulder gently.

She came awake quickly and blinked up at him before touching Louis's forehead herself. "He seems much better," she whispered, turning her eyes back to Aramis.

He smiled. "Yes. I think when he wakes he'll want to eat and be back on his feet within the day." He reached for his boots and pulled them on before standing. "I'd best get back to my quarters."

Their love was not a secret. In fact, Aramis was certain the entire court knew they were more to each other than Queen and Minister, but he liked to avoid the appearance of impropriety for her sake and did his best not to stay overnight in her quarters.

She stood and walked with him to the door, slipping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, Aaramis."

He put his arms around her and kissed her temple. "Of course," he whispered into her hair.

"I'm sorry you did not get to see Athos."

He shook his head. "I was needed here. I'll make sure all is well before I go see him tomorrow."

She tipped her face up to him and he kissed her softly before going into the hall.


	3. Chapter 3

Athos slept late the next morning and found his family eating breakfast with the others in the mess hall. Marie leaped off the bench as soon as she caught sight of him and crashed into his legs.

"Are we going riding today?" she pleaded, grinning up at him.

"Marie, don't be impolite," Elodie said. "Greet our friend properly and then come finish your breakfast."

The little girl frowned but stepped back and put her hands behind her back. "Good morning, Monsieur Athos."

Athos smiled and gave her head a little pat. "Good morning, _mademoiselle_. Never fear, I always keep my promises."

She flashed another, slightly impish, grin at him and returned to the table. Constance grabbed a plate of food for him and Athos joined Sylvie and Ollie, the little boy climbing into his lap to show him a musketball he'd found somewhere.

Athos had barely taken a bite when a sudden commotion came from outside. They heard the clatter of hooves and a shout and Athos and Porthos shared a grin before getting up to go outside.

Athos stepped into the courtyard, squinting in the sudden sun, and was immediately enveloped. Aramis held him tightly and Athos returned the gesture, noting the fine cloth his friend's clothes were cut from now.

"I'm sorry I didn't come last night," Aramis said, still holding Athos. "The Dauphin was ill."

"No matter," Athos assured him a bit breathlessly since his friend was reducing his lung capacity.

Aramis finally stepped back and if his eyes were a bit shiny, no one mentioned it. "Enough of you, where are …" he trailed off as he caught sight of Sylvie and Ollie who had followed them outside.

He greeted Sylvie warmly then crouched in front of Ollie. " _Mon dieu,_ " he breathed. "This is him? Your boy? Oh, _you_ are coming with me!" he exclaimed, swooping a startled Ollie into his arms. "You are exquisite, aren't you? How old are you? Are you two already? Athos, I can't believe you haven't brought him here before."

To his parents' surprise, Aramis' charm worked just as well on Ollie as it did on everyone else and he was calm in the stranger's arms. Aramis continued to chatter at him and look him over, touching his dark curls and kissing his round cheeks.

"Aramis!" Marie's sudden squeal brought him out of his reverie, and Aramis squated down to recieve the little girl with his free arm, lifting her as well.

"And here is _mon petit lapin_!" he exclaimed, kissing her. "Is Papa giving you enough sweets?"

She shook her head as Porthos groaned.

Aramis grinned. "Then you'd best check my pocket."

Marie happily completed their little ritual and even offered a candy to Ollie who took it gingerly.

"Well, I have what I came for," Aramis announced, his eyes sparkling. "These two are coming back to the palace with me and the rest of you can do what you will." He started marching toward the entrance, Ollie looking over his shoulder, clearly wondering if his parents were really going to let this strange man carry him away. Sylvie gave him a reassuring smile, knowing Aramis wouldn't take them too far.

"Wait!" Marie exclaimed, and Aramis paused. "Athos n' me are going riding!"

Aramis affected a pout. "Is Athos your new favorite?"

Marie paused, clearly concerned. "You are my favorite! But Athos will be so sad. An' he's your friend!"

Aramis could no longer hide a laugh and turned back to the group. "All right, as long as he's not your new favorite you can go riding with him. What about young Olivier, here? What do you think we should do with him?"

Marie frowned at her "cousin" thoughtfully. "He's very little. He might cry if you take him away."

Aramis nodded thoughtfully. "We wouldn't want that, would we? Olivier, would you like to stay with _Maman_?" The little boy nodded and Aramis heaved a sigh. "All right, but first we must teach him, eh Marie?"

She nodded.

"Repeat after me," Aramis said. " _Oncle_ Aramis."

"Onca 'Mis," Ollie said dutifully.

"Is my favorite."

"My favewit."

"Well done, you smart boy!" Aramis gave them each another loud kiss before setting them down.

Athos rolled his eyes as his brother rejoined the group but his words were warm. "How are you, my friend?"

"After seeing that one finally," he said, nodding towards Ollie who was now happily eating his candy from Sylvie's hip. "I am quite well."

Athos followed his gaze and shared a smile with Sylvie. "I can't say I blame you."

"He is very nearly the most beautiful boy in all of France," Aramis said. "Barring one. And if you disagree you speak treason."

"You're insufferable," Porthos said, slinging an arm around Aramis' shoulders with a grin. "Where've you been, anyway? We haven't seen or heard from you in days."

"Fever in the palace," he said. "Most of us had it. But all is well now."

Constance nodded. "It came through the garrison as well, a few weeks ago. All of us were spared."

Aramis kissed his cross and sent a little prayer of gratitude heavenward with his eyes. "If that's all we have to worry about, we must count ourselves blessed."

"Indeed we are," d'Artagnan said, handing Athos the bread he hadn't yet finished from breakfast.

Athos took it with his free hand. The other was clasped in both of Marie's hands to ensure he would not forget his promise. He glanced at Sylvie. "If all is well here, I have a promise to keep."

* * *

"Faster!" Marie cried, the wind whipping her blond locks into Athos' face as they cantered across the fields.

Athos made sure she was holding on tightly and kicked the horse into a gallop. Marie laughed and Athos found himself chuckling along with her. He was glad for the chance to get to know the spunky, articulate little girl and it had been a long time since he had ridden solely for pleasure. It brought back some of the few happy memories he had from his childhood.

"D'you want to know a secret?" she asked as the horse began to tire and they slowed and turned again toward the city.

"It is a good secret or a bad secret?" he asked warily.

She craned her head back to look at him, her dimples flashing. "A good one. A _really_ good one."

"Tell me," he said, smiling back.

" _Maman_ is going to have a baby!" She was bouncing up and down with the intensity of this revelation.

Athos raised his eyebrows. That was a much bigger secret than he'd been expecting. "She is? How many people know this secret, Marie?"

"Just me!" she exclaimed. "And Papa. He telled me it." She slumped rather suddenly.

"What is it?"

She hesitated. "Papa said not to tell anyone. But I telled you. And I telled Aramis."

Athos repressed a laugh. "I promise not to tell anyone else," he assured her.

She perked back up. "D'you know what?"

"What?"

"You're a good Musketeer. Papa says Musketeers tell the truth and help their friends no matter what. D'you know what else?"

Athos was still working hard to suppress his laughter. "What else?" he managed.

" _I'm_ going to be a Musketeer when I grow up. Like Constance."

This time the chuckle escaped him. "I certainly hope you will. France needs Musketeers like you, my dear."

* * *

 **I think these chapters are somehow getting shorter ... My bad.**

 **Special thanks to FierGascon for assisting me with the French! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

"I go ou'side!" Ollie pleaded, tugging on Sylvie's hand. The three of them, Sylvie, Constance, and Ollie were cleaning up from breakfast. Or, more appropriately, Constance was offering infrequent orders to the young cadets that were on kitchen duty for the day while the two women caught up.

Ollie had been content at first to sit in Sylvie's lap and play with one of Marie's wooden toys, but his attention soon wandered.

"In a moment," she told him. The men were practicing in the yard under d'Artagnan's supervision and she didn't want her wandering toddler underfoot.

"Go ou' _side_!" he insisted, tears close to the surface.

"We can take him up to the balcony," Constance suggested.

Sylvie nodded. "I'm sorry. He's used to being on a farm where it's a bit safer for him to wander."

"It's no trouble. The men are used to having Marie around and everyone already loves Ollie," Constance assured her, smiling at the little boy.

Sylvie stood and swung Ollie to her hip. "Do you think they would take him in shifts?" she asked, smiling.

Constance laughed and led the way out and up the stairs, pausing for a moment to watch d'Artagnan who was walking through the yard shouting encouragement and corrections as his cadets sparred.

"I see?" Ollie said, pointing to the duelers.

Sylvie pointed up to the balcony as they ascended the staircase. "We're going up there to watch," she told him.

He seemed placated, but craned his neck to continue watching. They reached the top of the stairs and he scampered over to the railings to get the best vantage point.

"An obsession with battle must be in his blood," Sylvie said, shaking her head at her little son's fascination with the exercises in the courtyard. "I don't know if I could take having another Musketeer in the family."

Constance smiled, leaning against the railing. "Musketeers aren't so bad, are they?"

Sylvie joined her, propping her elbows against the banister. "I just don't see why he can't be interested in something non life-threatening. Like a miller. Maybe I'll take him to a millhouse and see if he's interested."

Constance knew Sylvie was only half-joking. She loved her own Musketeer but would obviously prefer it if she knew he would be safe each time he left home.

" _Maman_!" Ollie exclaimed, tugging on her skirt and pointing and babbling, clearly excited. He wasn't quite articulate enough to be understood but he looked up as if he expected to be.

"Do you see their swords, my love?" she guessed. He nodded eagerly, his deep brown eyes sparkling. "Do you see Aramis and Porthos and d'Artagnan down there?"

He looked back down between the slats in the railing and nodded though she didn't think he'd quite put together who was who of his uncles. Aramis and Porthos were also on the training grounds, occasionally shouting advice to the recruits that was largely ignored. They listened intently to their captain, however.

"He's a very good leader," Sylvie said.

Constance nodded. "He loves the men and they love him. They trust him. Does Athos miss it?"

Sylvie thought about it for a minute. "He's never wanted power or control. He misses the camaraderie, I think, but not being a captain."

d'Artagnan called a break for the men, and he happened to glance up and see them, grinning as he caught sight of Constance. "You can come down, if you like," he called.

Aramis looked up as well. "Yes, bring him down, Sylvie!"

Constance laughed. "Aramis is certainly enamored."

Sylvie shook her head but she was smiling. "Ollie doesn't quite know what to think of him but if Aramis keeps pulling sweets out of his pocket, Ollie will become enamored as well."

The little boy was already heading for the stairs and Sylvie reached down to grab his hand so he wouldn't fall, but as soon as they were on level ground, Ollie pulled away and ran across the dusty courtyard to his "uncles."

Aramis crouched down and conversed with him, but Constance couldn't tell what he was saying since they were following at a more sedate pace.

Then Porthos produced two tiny wooden swords from somewhere in the equipment shed and handed one to a delighted Ollie and one to Aramis.

"I suppose I could've guessed this would happen," Sylvie lamented.

Constance lay a hand on her arm. "They do this all the time with Marie," she assured her.

Porthos crouched next to Ollie and showed him how to properly wield the sword and then he and d'Artagnan stood back to watch the duel.

Ollie rushed Aramis with a little growl and Aramis feigned fear, retreating before carefully parrying a swing. He had to fight hunched over since Ollie was so small but the little boy was having the time of his life. They exchanged several blows before Aramis let Ollie's next blow knock his sword out of his hand.

"Get him, Ollie!" Porthos cried, laughing.

Ollie ran after his opponent, getting in a good hit across Aramis' shins.

Porthos and d'Artagnan were both laughing as their brother collapsed into the dust, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Well done, Master Ollie," d'Artagnan said, grinning. "I've a mind to commission you here and now."

Aramis frowned down at his shirt. "This is one of my best doublets and that was not a fair fight," he protested, sending an exaggerated glare in Porthos' direction, though flickers of mirth still crossed his face.

"He had you fair and square," Porthos said, ruffling Ollie's hair.

"If you say so," Aramis said, standing with a groan. "Ollie, wouldn't you like to fight Porthos next?"

Ollie brandished the little sword. "More!"

Porthos shook his head and walked over to retrieve Aramis' fallen sword. "I hate you."

"It's only fair," d'Artagnan said, laughing. "Though Aramis _does_ need the practice."

Aramis gave d'Artagnan a half-hearted shove. "That's the Minister of France you're talking to," he said.

d'Artagnan gave him an exaggerated bow. "I beg your forgiveness."

"Insufferable," Porthos muttered as he walked past.

The big man began his duel with little Ollie and as the cadets returned for more training, d'Artagnan had them all take a turn sparring with the little boy. Though he did notice Sylvie's anxious gaze and came over to her and Constance.

"It helps them learn control to fight the little ones," he told her, taking Constance's hand absently. "They've been sparring with Marie since she was even smaller than Ollie. Their movements must be precise and careful and they can all use practice with that."

Sylvie nodded, somewhat more at ease. Ollie was certainly enjoying himself.

A sudden clatter of hooves made them all look up as Athos and Marie rode into the courtyard. The little girl called to d'Artagnan as they came to a halt.

"Did I miss it?" she cried.

He shook his head, smiling. "We're still practicing," he assured her as Athos dismounted and lifted her down. "Would you like to help us today?"

She nodded eagerly and started running for the shed for her sword. Porthos put out a hand and stopped her as she passed him. "Don't forget to thank Athos," he reminded.

She scampered back to Athos and smiled up at him. "Thank you, Athos!" she chirped.

"You're welcome," he said, somewhat distracted since he'd caught sight of Ollie battling a cadet.

As Marie ran off again, he left his horse in the care of a cadet and joined Sylvie, Constance and d'Artagnan at the edge of the courtyard.

"Don't worry," Constance assured him, correctly reading the look in his eyes. "The men are very careful."

He shot Sylvie a look, not entirely convinced, and she shrugged. "He seems to be holding his own," she said.

And so he was, though it was obviously due to the care of the cadets than any special skill on the part of the two-year-old.

"How long has he been at it?" Athos asked, watching Ollie dart back and forth, swinging his little sword with abandon. Marie had joined the melee as well.

"Nearly an hour now," Sylvie said.

Athos watched another moment. "He certainly has the energy for it, I suppose."

Sylvie smiled. "He should sleep very well tonight."

"So will Aramis," Constance added, looking across the courtyard. Aramis was sitting next to Porthos in the shade, his chin tucked into his chest and his hands limp in his lap. As they watched, Porthos gave his friend's arm a little tug so that Aramis was resting his head on Porthos' shoulder as he slept on.

Athos smiled. "He's gone soft since living in the palace."

They watched the sparring for another little while before Ollie finally seemed to grow tired and began looking around for familiar faces. He didn't catch sight of Athos or Sylvie for a moment and he stood in the dust, his lip beginning to tremble.

"Ollie!" Sylvie called, moving towards him.

His head snapped around and he ran over, dragging the tip of his little sword in the dirt and narrowly avoiding being trampled on by the cadets that were still practicing. He lifted up his arms to be held and Sylvie obliged, heading back to the others.

"Papa," he said, seeing Athos. "I fight."

Athos smiled at him. "I saw you. You were very fearsome."

Ollie grinned, puffing out his chest a little. "I fight."

"All right, little Musketeer," Sylvie said, dusting him off. "Are you ready for some lunch?"

He nodded and dropped the sword, and they went in with Constance.

* * *

 **Thank you for your continued support and kindness! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

That evening they gathered again in the mess hall to eat supper, with the exception of Aramis, who had duties to fulfill at the palace.

Much to Sylvie's surprise, Ollie had stayed busy enough all day exploring the garrison and playing with Marie that he hadn't taken a nap, but after taking only a bite or two of food, he was asleep against Athos' shoulder, oblivious to the noise around him.

Athos managed the art of eating one-handed for a few minutes before Constance offered to take him upstairs and Athos handed the little boy over.

She carried him up to their room but didn't lay him down on his pallet for a moment. Instead she sat on the bed and rocked him, unable to stop her mind from wandering.

She must have been gone from the table longer than she thought because a quiet knock came on the door and she tensed for a moment but relaxed when it was d'Artagnan who pushed it open. She was glad it was him because she wouldn't have to explain why she'd stayed upstairs to hold Ollie. He already knew.

He paused for a moment, his serious eyes taking her in. "Everything all right?"

"We're fine," she assured him, but she found herself unable to conjure a smile.

He left the door open a little to let in a bit of light and sat next to her. He gave her the smile that meant he knew she wasn't being entirely truthful. "Constance."

She sighed and rested her head against Ollie's dark curls. "Having him here, and seeing how happy he makes Athos… it makes me think of what you said when Marie was small."

He nodded slowly. "It's crossed my mind also."

Neither of them had to mention the words she was thinking of. It was soon after Porthos had left for the war and Constance was helping Elodie with Marie, rocking the baby by the kitchen fire one night. d'Artagnan had come to find her and tenderly admitted to Constance that he couldn't wait to see her with a child of their own one day. It was the first time he'd mentioned having children to her directly and caught her off-guard. She had assumed - hoped - he felt the same way she did, and she'd tearfully told him she didn't want to bring a child into a world so rife with conflict and horror. It became the source of many arguments and tears between them, but life had gotten underway as it always does and they had been able to put it from their minds.

"Do you feel the same as you did then?" Constance said into the silence.

He didn't respond for a long moment but she let him gather his thoughts. "I haven't thought about it," he said after a moment. "Training the cadets and running the garrison seems to be my calling for now. Our calling."

She was quiet, knowing there was more.

"But when I saw Ollie in the training yard today …" he reached out and brushed his thumb across Ollie's tiny fingers.

Constance's heart ached at the longing in his voice. But the ache did not alleviate the fear she still harbored and she stood and put Ollie down on his little bed, tucking the covers up to his chin as he settled in with a quiet sigh. She straightened again and met d'Artagnan's eyes.

"There is still so much suffering, and danger," she said. "I couldn't bear it, d'Artagnan, if something happened. I couldn't."

Her voice caught and he stood and tucked her into his chest. "I know," he whispered into her hair.

They stayed like that in silence, the familial hum of voices drifting up from downstairs.

* * *

The next morning had everyone heading different ways. Aramis was attending his duties at the palace, Porthos accompanied Constance, Elodie, and Marie to market, Sylvie took Ollie to meet some of her old friends, and Athos found himself with d'Artagnan in the training yard.

He sat in the shade and watched, acknowledging to himself that his young friend had taken to leadership in a way he himself never did. Athos had been captain out of a sense of duty but never desire. d'Artagnan, for all his jokes about Athos returning to govern this body of men, was meant to be here.

After a while, apparently satisfied the cadets could continue without him, d'Artagnan came to sit by Athos, sitting heavily and wiping sweat from his brow. "They've come a long way, if you can believe it," he said, not quite looking at Athos.

"I can believe it," Athos assured him. "Though none of them show as much promise as another young recruit I seem to remember."

d'Artagnan ducked his head but Athos didn't miss his smile.

"Those days seem very far away, now," the younger man said.

Athos leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I find I don't miss them," he admitted.

d'Artagnan looked up, surprised, but recovered quickly. "Only because you don't remember them. There was a great deal of alcohol involved."

They shared a smile, but Athos felt the need to explain further. "I certainly don't miss my friends having to drag me home in the night, and the mornings after. I don't miss the politics or the endless hours standing guard for the royal family in the sun. But this city … yes. _You_ I have missed. And Aramis and Porthos, of course."

He paused, hearing familiar voices over the din of the cadets and looked up to see Sylvie returning with Ollie in her arms. The little boy was babbling to her, his chubby finger stabbing the air as he pointed out anything and everything that interested him.

Athos turned again to look at d'Artagnan. "I miss some things about those days," he said. "But I am a better man now than I ever hoped to be then."

d'Artagnan gripped his shoulder in a sudden and fierce display of affection. "I've always believed you to be a great man, Athos. The difference now, is that you are happy."

Someday, Athos would stop being surprised at the wisdom d'Artagnan often showed, but not today. He smiled at his brother, and stood to go greet his wife and son. "You're right, of course," he said, as d'Artagnan stood as well and followed him along the side of the training yard. "I _am_ happy. Despite doing nothing to deserve it."

Ollie caught sight of them just then and gave a little shout, squirming to be put down. Sylvie laughed and obliged, and the little boy crossed the last few feet of distance between them at a run. Athos swept him up and held him close.

"Hello, _mon petit_ ," he said.

"Papa, I fight!" Ollie exclaimed, his eyes already on the cadets. Athos hesitated, not wanting to interrupt the exercises d'Artagnan had set them to, and the little boy lost patience and leaned out of Athos arms toward d'Artagnan.

Eyes wide with surprise, d'Artagnan took him, his eyes asking Athos' permission.

"It appears he remembers your training yesterday," Athos said, doing his best to repress a smile at the look on his friend's face. "If you've no objection, give the boy a sword."

"I fight!" Ollie reiterated.

And with that, d'Artagnan shook his head and called a cadet over to spar with the little boy.

"How is it that a boy raised on a peaceful farm has such a thirst for blood already?" Sylvie said, linking her arm with Athos' as they both watched the captain of the Musketeers with their son.

"Maybe he'll outgrow it," Athos said, knowing from her tone that she wasn't seriously concerned.

"You did, didn't you?" she teased lightly.

He smiled at her. "I just came to appreciate other things."

* * *

 **I've started teaching again so updates are going to be slow. :( But thank you for your continued interest! And for excusing the fact that I'm taking liberties with a few things. :)**


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